


Buttons

by auriadne



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Glove Kink, Hand Jobs, Intercrural Sex, M/M, PWP, broken glasses and an inappropriate use of shinra facilities, im just here for a good time, thanks remake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:11:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23882044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/auriadne/pseuds/auriadne
Summary: “I get it. You’re a tits man,partner.”
Relationships: Reno/Rude
Comments: 18
Kudos: 286





	Buttons

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I never thought I’d write FF7 fic. I used to read it on ff.net when I was a kid. Oh, the turned tables.  
> .  
> (sometimes you write a whole fic because you thought of a single line that made you laugh)

Reno laughs loud, obnoxious for all the intentions of prickling at some exposed nerves. Sweat beads from his forehead, and his chest heaves, more out of breath than he’s accustomed to. Rude actually makes him put in _work_. It’s more than he can say for most and after the number of times the man sent him flying across the simulated sector, he’s actually surprised he managed to down him.

Caught him off guard. Distractions, diversions. Reno is good at that.

Rude grumbles underneath him. His shades are cracked in one lens. The frames bend inward- a common casualty.

“What?” He pries, gloating from above. Reno’s weight settles on his midsection, pinning him down with no real power. He rests his head on his hand. The cool end of his nightstick presses to his cheek. Rude is oddly tolerable of this, for as much as he’s milking it for his own amusement.

“This is the sixth pair you owe me this week.”

His tongue clicks against his teeth. “C’mon, man. Hardly my fault you can’t dodge.”

“If you didn’t rely on a taser-“

“Don’t act like it’s a cheap trick. Not everyone can throw fucking boulders around.” Rude shoves himself up on his elbows. Not yet, he’s not finished. Reno pushes him down.

“Oh, no, no. We’re not done. Concede that I won this round.”

Last week he lost. Today, he gains on his score. His knees dig into the hard ground from where he’s straddling Rude’s waist. Reno shifts his weight, attempting to hold him down and-

Rude groans, and it’s not the kind he’d expect. It’s bit back between teeth, the start of a flush already blotching across his skin.

Oh my god. Reno’s brows shoot up. His mouth curls in a flash of teeth.

“Ah.” He hums with the dawn of understanding. “Why didn’t you say something?” He laughs again. This time, he knows it pushes every one of Rude’s buttons.

Oh, he is going to kill him, and it’ll be completely worth it.

“I get it. You’re a tits man, _partner._ ” It slides off his tongue, so simple but he’s managed to make something normal to them sound so crass. The hilt of his night stick drags along the cobblestone of the simulation. He presses it between Rude’s legs, grinding the length of his weapon against his partner’s crotch.

Rude tenses beneath him. Stoic. He wants to see him break.

“Partner, partner.” He teases, driving some Pavlovian response with the way he rubs against him. “I’m no Tifa, but-“ He shrugs, grin wide. “I wouldn’t count myself out.”

Reno is not stupid. It’s not like he can’t tell where Rude is looking even hidden by the tint of shades, and by now, he’s got a sixth sense as to when the man’s attention is on him. And it is, singularly, wholly. Has been all day even before he extended the invitation to meet in the training room to blow off some steam.

In more ways than he anticipated, apparently.

Reno tips forward, fingers dragging up the black fabric of his partner’s suit. He lets his chest spill from his half done top. The pink of his nipples flash under the slide of his crisp button down. Is it cruel of him to tease like this? Nah, if anyone can handle him, it’s Rude.

He can imagine the earful he’d get from Tseng for this kind of behavior. _A poor reflection on the Turks._ He’s gotten it a few times for his alterations to the uniform before he decided Reno’s propriety was a lost cause.

Ha, Rude’s never cared. Left him to his own business. The only judgement he received was when he was needlessly putting his life at risk. Out of all the partners he’s had since his stint with Shinra, and the Turks tended to attract the strange and uptight, Rude was almost fun.

_Almost._

“Get off.”

“Come on. You’re a big boy. If you really want me off, you could just throw me aside easy. Unless,” He rubs the base of his baton harder, grinding the metal against his balls. “You’d prefer to be the one getting off.”

“Reno.” He says with the utmost severity that almost has Reno breaking the façade. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”

It’s more fun that way.

“I like playing with fire. You should know that by now. That I want-“

He drops the stick and when he reaches back, it’s his own hand. Palm curling over the line of Rude’s cock, half chub in a suit far too expensive considering what Reno wants to do to it.

“-to get burned.”

Line crossed. Bridge burned.

Rude moans and squirms underneath him. It only kindles the fire more.

“Shit-“ Rude curses under his breath when his head thunks into the floor. His heels push back, nearly bucking Reno off. He falls forward instead, in an elbow to the face.

“Hey!” He scrambles off. Those glasses are definitely irreparable now. “Ah, fuck. What did ya do that for?”

“Cameras.” Rude grunts, rubbing his nose. He pulls out a second pair to replace the cracked ones. “Or did you forget.”

The simulation still whirs around them. The setting some generic alleyway in Sector 8.

“What are they gonna do? Fire us?” 

“ _Reno.”_ He says exasperated. “We’re on company grounds, and I’m no exhibitionist.”

Spoilsport.

“Are you worried about traumatizing some new recruit stuck on the night shift?” The glare he feels is disapproving at best, annoyed at the worst. “Fine, fine. Have it your way. You know, Shinra’s probably got your dick on file anyways.”

“I’d rather not give them more ammunition.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He dismisses, pulling himself to his feet. The simulation dissipates in a flash of sparks, leaving them in the empty shell of the Shinra training room.

It takes two minutes. Twenty feet for them to make it to the locker room, which knowing Shinra headquarters is probably still surveilled. HR be damned. By that time, it is Reno who’s shoved into the wall. His nightstick clatters to the ground when he braces himself against it while Rude’s hands roam his body, tearing into his suit.

Holy fuck.

“Woah, there.” He mutters, catching up to what he really instigated here. Teasing that’s gone straight to action in mere minutes. He will say, Rude is not one for games. A man of action, obviously. “I was right. Huh, partner?” His cocky attitude is not nearly as convincing in such a breathless tone. “You are pent up. Haven’t seen you with a girl in months. Your hand must be tired.”

His movements stop. Reno catches his breath. Rude’s is blown hot against his neck. It draws gooseflesh up his arms.

“Do you ever stop talking?” He mutters with a tinge of amusement. Spice of life and all, and Reno is the spice in his.

“Is that a rhetorical question? Really, Rude, you should know better.”

Rude chuckles. This feels natural. Barely a step from where they were, even if Reno had to give a push. A small one. The only difference is that he’s taken seriously.

He catches Rude’s ankle with his foot, kicking it apart. His thigh nudges between them as he winds his fingers in his tie. Reno tugs, and Rude gasps for breath.

“Choking not your thing?” He pushes, relinquishing his grip on the tie and instead undoing it. Rude’s filled out, pressed hard to his leg as he grinds against him. His lips press together, and an amused sound escapes him. “Talk to me. I hate silence. What’s your vice? What gets you going?”

He taps his questions out against Rude’s chest, popping offending buttons so he’s not the only one showing skin.

“I thought you knew my preferences. You were so confident earlier.”

Before, he was joking. Now, he is serious.

“Busty? Ha, there are worse things to pop a boner over.”

“Strength.” Rude’s hand tilts his chin, still gloved. Reno doesn’t fight it. He’s curious. Rude’s thumb tugs, pressed slight into his mouth. The taste of leather against his tongue. It pulls at his lower lip. Reno swallows. “Someone mouthy _,_ too.”

Ah.

That’s not a Tifa trait. It’s all him. Maybe, this was a long time coming.

“You want a little push back.” Reno jerks his lapels. Rude lurches forward, glasses knocked askew. “Some quid pro quo. I’ve gotcha, _partner._ ” 

Reno’s mouth ghosts over his in the façade of a kiss- more preoccupied with things of less sentiment. Not exactly a mushy, feelings type of guy. He prefers things hard and fast, and just like that, his hand is in Rude’s pants.

The smug grin that crosses his face is the same as when he first thought he won.

His hand curls around the thickness of his cock. Hot and heavy, it practically throbs against him. He drips thick precum. Been a while since he busted one out, huh? Globs slide down the dark head, over his fingers. It stains his suit. Rude’s going to be pissed tomorrow morning when he realizes. Now, his judgement is, well, _clouded._

“ _Reno.”_ He twists in his hair and pulls. It forces his chin back. His neck left exposed. Rude mouths marks across it, tongue and teeth against his skin. It’s kind of hot, too- hearing Rude call him like that.

“Told you I’d get you off. Not like I’d back out now.”

“ _Quid pro quo._ ” Rude mimics and returns the favor for real.

Reno shudders when he slips under the hem of his shirt. Nails drag along his abdomen. Rude strains the buttons of his too tight shirt, ripping it open in a motion that tears the buttons apart. Not that he cares, really. His leg slots between his own, knee pushing against the bulge in his pants. Reno hisses under his breath at the newfound friction and instinctively ruts against him.

Yeah, that, too.

He’s turned on, has been for a while. Getting his rocks off in a good fight isn’t unheard of. Blood pumping, adrenaline, all that. And maybe, he likes being tossed around. Just a little bit. He’ll never own up to it though, too much of a sore loser.

“If you left me hanging, I’d never let you live it down.”

“You won’t anyways.”

It’s true. This is providing _ample_ material. He’ll tease him about it for years. 

He won’t be the only one. Reno groans. Rude holds him steady as he rides his thigh. His own arousal seethes hot in his veins, pressed hard, obvious, desperate against his partner. Whatever, Rude’s seen him at his worst. He can stand to see him wanting.

His touch, a cool balm to sweltering skin, snakes over him. Over the swell of his chest, Rude grabs a handful of him. His teeth clank, ground out hard when he pulls at his nipples rubbing them until they’re hard and Reno is left writhing, whining, from the attention he craves.

He bucks, dick twitching with too much interest considering he’s trying not to be shamefully quick.

“Shit, man.” He bites.

“Sensitive?” Rude teases. The edge of his mouth curls, almost sly. He imagines it’s a mirror of his self. He’s been a terrible influence.

Reno snorts in response. They don’t have much time, and it doesn’t feel like he’s going to last long. But hell, if he can’t do better than a handjob.

He shoves back against Rude. He’s a fucking wall, barely knocked back half a foot. It’s enough though, enough breathing room that he’s not going to cream his pants over something embarrassing like playing with his tits.

“Change your mind?”

He huffs. “Fuck no.”

Reno shimmies fast from his clothes. His pants pool awkward at his knees. He’s a commando kind of guy, cock jutting forward when his pants slide down. It’s flushed a swollen red, curved towards his stomach from a thatch of dark hair. He toys with himself. A sigh passes his lips, and he bites down.

Rude eyes him up with his stupid indoor sunglasses fogged. He’s half in the mind to tear them off. Cost him more money, if Rude ever decided to collect on his debts. But he must read his mind, finally removing them. He tucks them into his breast pocket, and somehow that makes him even hotter. Dammit.

His focus shifts from Reno’s face to his dick. He has the audacity to chuckle. _That asshole_. Black hair, red hair. It’s not like he’s never bitched about his roots before.

Reno snaps his fingers once. “Creep. Quit staring at my dick.”

“You were the one feeling mine up on camera before.”

“You weren’t complaining.” He laughs, breathy, as he jerks himself off. Grip tight on his shaft, as it slides easy in his fist. His hand drops lower feeling himself up for show. He knows Rude is watching with rather _rapt_ attention. He rolls his balls in his palm, squeezing, as his finger slides along the sensitive skin beneath them.

“Mmph. We should, ah-“ _Hurry this up_. His mouth drops in a pant, gaze flicking heavy to Rude. Its an invitation. A challenge. A very, very intentional one at that. Rude tenses. His palm hits the wall next to Reno’s head. Hard enough that he hears dry wall crack. Hot damn. “Between my legs.” Reno spits. “Fuck. My thighs. It’s easier. _Better.”_

Rude pieces together the mangled fragments of his words and leaves for forty-two seconds. Yes, he counted.

When he returns Reno is spun around ass out. Its hilarious to him. The picture they’d paint for some unsuspecting, over eager Shinra grunt out past midnight, or worse one of those SOLDIER weirdos, if they stumbled in on this sight.

Reno a disheveled mess, bending himself over for his partner. Rude still clothed, suit only teased apart and crumbled by Reno’s own insistent hand. Ha, next time he wants the roles reversed. To strip the man bare. He knows he’s built like a fucking house.

Reno’s forearm braces against the wall. He peers back over his shoulder, egging Rude to action.

“C’mon, partner. Don’t make me more of a liar than I already am.”

His attitude is swallowed back harsh at the hand groping his ass. Those gloves. His eyes roll. _Those fucking gloves._ Of course, he left them on. Rude, Rude. He wriggles back.

Rude’s breath runs hot over his ear. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Ah,

Reno parts his legs, urging him on. His cock slides, slick, between the meat of his thighs. Shaft pressed flush to his taint. Rude’s arm wraps around him, curling over his chest to hold him close as he ruts against him. Reno shudders, closed tight around his cock. There’s a stilt in Rude’s breath. A gasp, a break in composure that he revels, his fist tightens in the collar of Reno’s torn shirt. He’s feeling it.

Good.

“Fuck me like you mean it.” Reno whispers, and it all but sets him off.

A new momentum shoves him forward. Reno lurches; his cheek hits the wall, pushed unceremoniously. It drags a gasp from his throat as he scrambles for balance. Rude pulls back on his hips, thrusting past the tight squeeze Reno’s made of himself.

The length of his dick drags dangerous along his taint. Tip nudging the bottom of his balls with each thrust in a sensation that sparks arousal through his body. He moves, riding against him to get more.

Reno moans. Another loud, borderline obnoxious sound. It’d be hypocritical if Rude called him out on it. Not with the twitch he feels between his legs, and the drip of warm liquid that’s been pent up for so long.

Reno snakes a hand between his legs. Pulling, tugging at his own cock. It seeps, cum smeared over the head. He jerks himself, bouncing with each thrust. His balls tighten. Tension starts to form. His forehead digs into the wall, pumping himself. He watches the tip of Rude’s cock as it peeks between his thighs.

Rude curls a hand up his neck. A threat against each breath swallowed down with the bob of his Adams’ apple. His fingers pry into parted lips, slipping inside. Reno tongues between them, sucking and drooling around the leather. His eyes squeeze shut. A more wanton sound than he’d prefer leaves him.

He cants back, grinding his ass against his partner. His hand falls from himself, dropping beneath his own junk to tease at the dick between his thighs. Reno slips over the tip, rubbing sensitive nerves, leaving him damp and dripping.

“Come on, come on.” Reno mutters, messy around Rude’s hand.

The man pitches forward, head falling to his shoulder blade. Rude’s hand drops from his mouth in a sticky stream of saliva to fist in the collar of his shirt. His hips stutter with a groan, holding Reno tight. Dry spell over. He thinks when he clenches around him. Cum drips warm between his thighs, as he rides the waves of orgasm, determined to milk him of every last drop.

He’s soon to follow. Rude joins to stroke him and tease at his nipples, until he’s the one shaking, spilling over his gloves.

He falls back. Well, this was more than he signed up for tonight.

Reno breathes a laugh. He tucks himself away, not even bothering to fix his shirt. He flips around leaning back. Terribly casual. Rude coughs into his hand and reaches into his coat pocket. Glasses or not, he is still an informative shade of red, even if Reno had no issue seeing past them.

Must have been pretty good if he can’t look him in the eye. He’ll get used to it.

“Good match.” Reno winks. “We’ll have to do it again sometime.”


End file.
